The Almost Mary Sue
by inweofnargothrond
Summary: Have you ever wondered how Mary-Sue's laptops ALWAYS work? Or how they (conveniently) get changed into Elves and just SOMEHOW learn Elvish in that small tear between time and space? So do I... Rebel against those MSs!- it's time for 'real' Mary Sue!
1. Wendi

Wow... I haven't even written anything and people have already reviewed! Laugh Out Loud... (yeah, I'm a geek...) Haha! Anyway... Special thanks to **Writer From Rivendell** and **Raven Demon**... 

You might be disappointed in the first few chapters- no Middle Earth- yet... First, some (pointless? Maybe not...) character development- so stick with me for a while... 

--- 

A beautiful girl sits on her large, lavender canopy bed. She places her laptop inside a bright blue duffel bag along with a few purses and about a week's worth of clothes- three pairs of jeans, a khaki skirt, a jean skirt, a pair of grey sweatpants, a pair of bright orange shorts, a sweatshirt, a few shirts, tank tops, matching pajama sets, and underwear. 

'Incase I decide I don't like what I'm wearing,' she tells her self, glancing down at her jeans and black tank top. She takes another canvas bag and places shampoo, soap, deodorant, lotion, a toothbrush and toothpaste, a razor, and a thousand dollar's worth of makeup in it and stuffed that bag inside the other. She throws her cell phone on top of that and counts out about six hundred dollars. 

She zippers it and heaves her duffel bag over her shoulder then takes a sleeping bag and pillow. She walks down the marble stairs with difficulty and reaches for the doorknob. 

"Gwendolyn Evelia LeFeubre!" 

"Oui, mama?" she cringes, glancing at her mother, who has a plastic shower cap over her head- no doubt dying it again- an eyelash curler in one hand and a tube of fire-engine red lipstick in the other. 

"Où vas-tu?" her mother asks, eyeing the large duffel bag. 

Wendi groans, "Je passe la nuit au maison de Cate." 

"Ah, oui. Salut!" 

"Bye," she mumbles, slamming the cobalt blue door of her huge, French-style mansion. I stand there, eagerly awaiting Wendi. 

Wendi and I are best friends. 

Wendi is tall and attractive. She has long, thin blonde hair and bright, azure-colored eyes. She's virtually the epitome of an American girl, except she's French. She's slender with long, muscled legs and a pretty oval-heart-shaped face. 

She rolls her eyes and adjusts her strap, "Gosh... Sorry about that. My mom was being a total spaz." I just laugh. We start walking towards my house. 

"I wish I could speak French," I respond, enviously, kicking a little pebble along the grey cement. 

She straightens out her tank top strap, "No, you don't," she mutters darkly. "Anyway, ready to get out of this place?" 

I grin, "Hold on a sec., I still need to grab my stuff." She grins back and throws her duffel into a bush in my front yard and walks with me into my house. 

I pull out a silver colored key from my pocket and open the door, "Mom?" I call, "I'm spending the night at Wendi's tonight." 

"Yeah, sure, Cate. Do you have all your things?" 

I roll my eyes, "Yes, mother." 

I run up to my room and shove clothes inside- two tank tops, a few pairs of jeans, funky looking shirts, a sweater and shoes- tons of shoes. I throw my skateboard inside and take some makeup and other necessities, although I know Wendi brought some already. I take a pair of pajamas and a few changes of underwear. I throw all the cash that I had inside the bag- forty-three dollars and fifty-seven cents. 

And socks. Can't forget about socks. 

I throw my cell phone inside it and run down the stairs, stopping at the pantry to stuff the rest of my bag with gummy bears, peach rings, and Pringles. I realize I forgot my sleeping bag, so I run back up to get it, then run back down. I take my things and walk outside. 

"Bye, Mom," I call as I slam the door shut. 

"Ready?" she asks me. 

I grin, "Hell, yeah!" She retrieves her bag from the bush and we stop about a block down from our houses. "Call Matt," I suggest. She nods and extracts her cell phone from her bag and dials Matt's cell phone number with her perfect, French manicured nails. 

"Matt?" she says into the phone, "It's Wendi... uh, huh... Listen, Matt, sorry to be bothering you when you're all busy with _Lauren_," she responds, grinning and singing his girlfriend's name. 

"But we really need to get a ride to the train station... is Chris coming, too? Really?" she half-shrieks, "Oh my gosh, this is gonna be, like, so much fun... oh... You're not staying? Well... just stay for a while at least- please? Great! We're on the corner by my house right now, can you come? All right, I'll see you. Bye." 

"And?" I ask her, placing the heavy duffel on the ground. 

She grins, "Matt's going back home to pick up Chris and they're coming to the hotel with us tonight." 

"Is Lauren mad?" I ask. 

She laughs, "Yes." 

"Good," I smirk. I don't like Lauren. She's thin and cute and wealthy, like Wendi, but she's a snob. And she's not as pretty. Definitely not as pretty. 

Matt is a senior already and Chris is a freshman, like we are- he's Matt's younger brother. Wendi and Chris are 'sort-of' in a relationship. 

I can't blame her. Chris is totally hot. 

Matt comes around the corner in his old, beat up car. He stops right in front of us. Matt and Chris hop out of the car and take our things before putting them in the trunk. Chris and Wendi sit in the back and I pull the front seat back to its regular position before sitting in it and buckling the seat belt. 

"Now," Matt says, smirking into the rear view mirror, "You two behave." 

Wendi rolls her eyes, "Thank you, _Matt_," she snaps in a very final way, sounding pissed off. She always gets that way about Chris- like, people _know_ that they're not really in a serious relationship, but somehow she likes to pretend that they are. 

Maybe it has something to do with her French-ness. 

Matt looks over at me as he puts the car into drive. He smiles at me, and I smile back. He is hot... Very hot- but way out of my league. 

He has a girlfriend. He is a senior. 

That's what I will tell my self. 

Yeah right. 

This is going to be a long trip. 

--- 

All right, French translations: 

"Oui, mama?"   
Yes, mom? 

"Où vas-tu?"   
Where are you going? 

"Je passe la nuit au maison de Cate."   
I'm spending the night at Cate's house. 

"Ah, oui. Salut!"   
Ah, yes. Bye! 

If any of them are wrong, feel free to correct me... French is my second language... so the grammar might not be right on... 

Anyway, what do you think? No M.E. yet, but it's coming... Leave me one! 


	2. Disaster or What?

Hey... thanks for reading the last chapter and **Centellear the Fiction Cat**, **Niani**, **Alina11**, and **Lamoo** for reviewing... 

Sorry I haven't updated anything in a really long time... High school is a big, fat, sonofabitch. O=) 

--- 

I watch Cate carefully. Sometimes, she gets a little... overenthusiastic- especially when it comes to boys- in particular, Matt. 

"Are you all right?" I glance over at Chris. 

"Yeah, I'm fine." He looks worried, but there's nothing to be worried about. I rest my head on his shoulder and sigh. 

Cate glances back at us and smirks. I roll my eyes. We're not even going out. 

Chris is tall- taller than I am. And he has short, spiky brown hair and green eyes. He's a very preppy sort of person- blue jeans, rugby shirt, flip flops. 

Matt, however, is almost the opposite. Matt is still tall, but he's really skinny- think, underfed rockstar skinny. He has long-ish, sort-of-curly brown hair and grey-blue eyes- and freckles. He's a very punk-rock-skater type of person- black t-shirt with some weird band name on it, khakis, blue Chucks. He's such a weird freak. 

He and Cate would be a perfect couple. 

"Wen, I'm just gonna drive into the city, there's no point in paying for parking." 

"Yeah, sure." 

I wonder, vaguely, what'll happen when our parents find out that I didn't spend the night at Cate's and she didn't spend the night at mine and, instead, we left with one (very irresponsible) senior and my boyfriend to New York City. 

It's not like anything bad will happen, though. Right? 

Whatever. I trust Matt... 

After about 45 minutes of being driven, we finally arrive at the Plaza. Matt parks his total crap car in the garage, and I can feel myself blushing as I see his ugly car next to nice, shiny limos and those other little cars. I check in and we carry our bags up to the suite. 

"Shit, this is nice Wen." 

I don't even bother unpacking my things yet, "Yeah, I know," I reply back, curtly. 

I don't like Matt. 

"Come on," Cate says, smirking as she collapses backward onto the bed, "This is gonna be so much fun." 

Cate is a very pretty girl. She is short and slender. She's Asian and has dark brown almond shaped eyes and black hair with blue streaks. 

Those blue streaks totally clash with her hair. 

Matt lies down next to her, "This is gonna be fun," he agrees softly. I sit down on the sofa and Chris sits next to me. I really don't like Matt. 

"What is your brother _doing_?" I ask Chris. 

He shrugs and glances over to Matt, who is tickling Cate, "Getting to know her, I guess," he says with a grin on his face as Cate laughs with glee. 

"He's, like, too old for her." 

Chris' eyes flash for a moment, "Cate's a big girl. She can handle him herself." Somehow, I can't even imagine 'Cate' and 'big' in the same sentence without 'not.' 

"Come on, Wen, stop being so... overprotective." 

Did he seriously just call me overprotective? 

"Wen," he says softly. I turn away. He runs his finger down my neck, sending tingles down my spine. 

"Go away," I mutter, annoyed. 

"Wen," he says again, singing, "Don't be so sensitive." I'm NOT sensitive! "Or defensive." 

He brushes his lips against my cheek, making my cheeks tingle. "I'm sorry," he mutters, shoving his hand beneath my shirt and rubbing my back. 

If you think I'm giving up that easily, think again! He kisses me, leaning against me and tilting my head towards his. 

Maybe just this once. 

--- 

"Cate?" 

"Yeah?" I respond, as he runs his fingers across my arm. 

He sighs, "I'm really confused." 

"About what?" He props himself up on the bed, facing me. I turn to face him, also, ignoring the fact that my best friend and his brother are sucking face just a few feet away. 

He takes my hand and I gently pull it away, "About you." 

I laugh, carefully putting my hand out of his reach, "What do you mean, 'about me'? There's nothing to be confused about." He doesn't say anything. 

"You're with Lauren now, remember?" He stays silent. "Remember?" I ask again, louder and my voice sounding like Minnie Mouse. 

"Yeah, that's right," he responds slowly, looking at me sadly with his beautiful grey-blue eyes. "Lauren," he repeats. 

I want him to like me. I want him to be with me and not Lauren. But I don't want to say it. To say it would make it final, like, he would now have to make this huge choice- me or Lauren. Easy. If I were a guy, I'd definitely pick Lauren. Lauren is a senior, also, and tall and pretty and curvy and all those other things that guys like. 

And she's easy. Very easy. 

"Yeah, Lauren," I echo after him. 

The only thing we could hear was the sound of Wendi and Chris kissing. 

Gross. 

He doesn't say anything, though. "Matt?" I ask, not quite knowing what to say. 

"I don't care about-" 

"Hey, Cate!" Wendi stands up from the sofa. "We should order some room service- I'm starving." 

Matt looks angry, "You should be," he retorts. Wendi ignores him and proceeds to the phone. 

"I need to go for a walk." 

"A smoke?" Wendi snarls. 

Matt glares at her, "Whatever you feel like calling it, little Miss Princess Bitch." 

"Matt, don't be a dick," I snap, instinctively defending Wendi. 

He glances at me and sighs. "Yeah, Matt," Wendi snaps her fingers together, "Remember, I'm, like, paying for all of this." 

"Look, I got you here in the first place. And you're only paying for it because you're a little Daddy's girl." 

"Wen, can you leave Matt alone?" Chris asks, obviously annoyed, "And Matt, just leave Wen alone. How about you both don't talk to each other?" 

Wendi glares at Matt through heavily mascara-ed eyes, "Sounds good to me." 

Matt doesn't say anything but instead slams the door as he walks outside. 

I walk over to the desk and open the white paper folder, "Wendi, why do you have to be so mean to Matt?" I take one of the card-keys from the envelope. "I mean, it's not like he did anything to you." I put it in my pocket and walk outside. 

"Hey, Matt!" I call down the turquoise colored halls. 

He turns around. "Matt, what's up?" 

"Come on, I wanna show you something," he says. An invitation... I nod. He leads me down the elevator, across the street, through crowds of midnight walkers, straight to... Central Park. 

"Matt?" 

"Yeah?" 

I sit down on the damp grass, "What's going on?" 

He sits down next to me, "What do ya mean?" 

"I mean... I mean... what were you trying to tell me before?" 

"What? Oh... _that_..." he sighs and lies down on the grass, "I... don't really... I don't really... care much... for Lauren, I mean." 

I glance downwards at him, "Why not? She's pretty and perfect... just about the most wanted girl in your grade," I laugh cynically. 

"Maybe... Maybe I'm not looking for someone in my grade." I glance down at him again, making sure to memorize his grey-blue eyes and his odd hair. 

"Well," I start, then pause, "What kind of person are you looking for?" 

He smirks, "Lie down, it's real comfy." 

"Nah, I don't want grass in my hair." 

"Well, lie on me." I glance down at him for a second before relaxing on his skinny stomach, covered only with a thin black t-shirt. 

I can hear the rhythmic breaths of his stomach and I sigh, "Matt... If you don't wanna be with Lauren, then your standards are a little too high." 

"Cate... I don't give a shit about Lauren anymore. She's not as pretty or as perfect as you think she is. She takes three hours to get ready to go out to the movies at night. It's not like I'm gonna notice in the dark," he adds, annoyed at the very thought. 

I sigh, trying to think of something to say, but Matt continues, "I don't even know why I went out with her in the first place... I mean, she's so... self-absorbed. You know? I don't know anymore... I always thought that Lauren was gonna be, you know, fun to go out with and stuff and I guess she's easy and stuff but if it's that easy for me then how do I know how easy it'll be for anyone else? She's a slut. I mean... I don't know what I mean." 

"Well... what kind of person are you looking for?" I ask again. 

"Someone..." he stops and thinks a minute, "Someone like you." 

--- 

How incredibly tacky. Cate does not mind, however, and smiles. They eventually go back to the hotel room, where Wendi and Chris are still... busy. Anyway, the night passes incredibly fast. Nothing worth mentioning happens, as usual in these types of stories. 

Back to the hotel room. As I was saying, Matt gives Cate his tacky bracelet- it's a thick, hemp-type-thing braided bracelet. Chris... well, I'm not quite sure _what_ he gave to Wendi... and I'm not sure I want to know. Matt and Chris leave at about 4 am just as Wendi and Cate collapse in the bed. 

"Man... that was fun." 

"Yeah," Cate responds, sighing. Fun? Sure. I think I'd rather go slit my wrists or something _waay_ more fun then making out with some stupid prep and talking to some pervert senior, but sure. 

"I'm so tired..." Wendi yawns and promptly falls asleep, looking like an angel, curled up in the blankets next to Cate with her long, pale fingers pressed together under her head. 

Cate sighs again and turns off the lamp, she lays down, uncomfortably, next to Wendi. 

I know that in Cate and Wendi's point of view they were described, but for the sake of pure Mary-Sue-age-ness, I shall describe again, this time, with honesty. 

There is no way to describe Wendi except for very perfect. She has long, blonde, very perfect hair that goes down all the way to her very perfect butt which is connected to her very perfect legs and very perfect feet right down to her very perfect French-manicured toes- or is it French-pedicure? Whatever. 

She has very perfect, glowing pale skin and very perfect (very plucked) eyebrows and a very perfect (can anyone say- plastic surgery?) nose along with very perfect rosy cheeks and very perfect plump lips and very perfect blue eyes. 

Hell, even that little zit (what zit?) forming on her nose looks very perfect. She has tiny little feet and tiny little ears with one piercing in each and tiny gold hoops. 

She's the perfect height (doesn't matter if you think that 6'1" or 5'5" is the perfect height- somehow, she has defied anything that you thought you knew and is both) and the perfect weight (she's very slim and has perfect legs and arms and yet, somehow she can eat pounds of chocolate and not gain an ounce- or get anything stuck in her [very perfect] teeth). 

She wears glamorous French-designer stuff (her mother's a famous French-designer) and she's perfect. 

I could go on, but you get the picture (if you don't, then that'd just be pathetic. No offence.) Notice how I haven't said anything about Wendi's **personality**? Well, who would care about such a trivial thing like that? Psshaw. 

About Cate- she's an interesting character. She has stick-straight black hair with blue streaks that are sort of turning aqua at the roots and at the very roots are so-obviously-peroxide-colored bleach blonde. She has dark brown eyes (so dark you can barely tell the brown from black) that are almond shaped and flat, straight eyelashes. She has nicely shaped eyebrows, but they do need to be plucked a bit. 

She's short but very skinny- I mean, she barely has boobs. She has soccer-player legs, though, and odd shaped, bruised feet from Pointe. She has chipped, black nail polish on and a tiny zit appearing on the tip of her nose. She has a round-heart shaped face and three earrings in one ear, two in the other. Cate also has golden colored skin- tans super easily. 

Lucky. Anyway, she's a very... funky sort of girl. She designs her own clothes from old band shirts or soccer jerseys or jeans she doesn't really wear too much anymore. She has bright green Chucks and always wears weird colored eye makeup... yet somehow, she pulls it off. 

Anyway, back to the story. Cate and Wendi fall asleep and wake up some hours later. Wendi happened to wake up after only a mere two hours of sleep, looking fresh-as-a-daisy, so she ordered room service, to which Cate woke up to. They changed and got ready for a brand new day (big fricken whoop). 

"I'm tired," Cate yawns, "Why'd you wake me up so early, you crazy bitch." 

Wendi rolls her eyes, curtained behind long, perfectly curled black eyelashes, "Come on, get over it. We have to leave soon anyway- our parents are gonna kill us if they find out." 

"They won't find out, though." 

"Yeah, not if you don't start moving your skinny ass! Come on, Cate, move!" 

"What does it look like I'm doing?" Cate asks, tying the dirty, white laces of her green Chucks. She grabs her bag and walks out the door, following Wendi, who has just pressed the button on the elevator. Cate throws her bag on the ground, making the elevator shake a little. 

She laughs, but Wendi just shakes her head, "You're gonna get us stuck or something, then we'll be in a shit-load of trouble." 

"Yeah, right, Wen. Nothing's gonna happen, watch-" Cate picks up her bag and drops it again, and again, and again. Nothing happens, but then, the elevator stops. 

"God-fucking-dammit! Look what you did, you crazy bitch! Con comme une bite! Ah, fuck! You stupid, fucking bitch!" 

Cate smirks, "I guess you're mad at me," she laughs and pulls the red button, but nothing happens. She kicks the door a few times and it creaks open a tiny sliver. "See, we'll get out." 

"You-fucking-dumbass-crazy-bitch-stupid-idiot!" Wendi shouts. 

"Shut up, you're French," Cate responds, "You just cursed in French... Ha-ha-ha!" Cate grabs her bag, "Are you coming or not?" Wendi grumbles but takes her bag and they proceed to the door. 

--- 

So sorry it was such a lo-ong chapter... what do you think? I'll give you a guess where they end up... Gee... tough one. Anyway, leave me a review. 

By the way, not sure if that's French cursing or not- got it off the internet. *shrugs*, you can get anything off the internet... 


End file.
